A Historian's Dream
by Lift the Wings
Summary: Just trying this out. A woman from the future, of course, finds herself tossed into the past. Sounds fun? Not really, when you're American and you're in the hands of a certain devilishly handsome butcher. Tavington/OC. Please read and review! Bad summary!
1. National Archives

Welcome to my wondrous story – ok I don't know if it's wondrous. That's what the readers are for, eh? Anyway, I have many stories in progress but I needed to start this one, cuz I love Colonel William Tavington! And yes, it is a girl gets transported into the Revolutionary War, but those are usually the best kind.

Disclaimer: I do not own _the Patriot_, but I do own any character you may not recognize, including my main one, Emmalyna Tylor.

Prologue: The National Archives

I sat tapping lightly but swiftly on my personal laptop, blaring Keith Urban on my iTunes account. Aging pieces of parchment were scattered about my desk as I worked on my latest project for my job as a Museum Technician (aka history nerd) at the National Archives. This just happened to be tracing the lines of the most influential officers in the Revolutionary War, on both sides.

I carelessly swept a stray piece of my wavy auburn-chestnut hair from my matching eyes. I surveyed what I already had written and gently lifted one of the pieces of parchment. I spoke aloud as I typed the name of one of the most powerful British officers of the war, "General Cornwallis."

After typing this, I sat back in my chair and cast an unconcerned look at the clock on my desk – after digging for a moment or two to actually _find _the bloody thing. I had been working on this project for nearly four hours straight.

"I need a break," I said aloud, shaking my head at myself. Constantly with my nose in a book, I tended to spend a lot of time researching history and always found myself fascinated by what I read. Amazing people, changing lives for better or worse, with all sorts of decisions and events…..

I took a sip of my hot chocolate and turned off the music. _Enough of that_, I thought to myself, amused, _I'm sure Edith is tired of my hunky Australian man_. My sixty-five year old, hefty secretary did not, as it were, share my enthusiasm for country music (however, she did share my affection for Keith Urban). In fact, she did not share my enthusiasm for anything, aside from that.

_How does a secretary get to boss me around, like she's my mother?_ I thought, amused as I leafed through my edition of _the Complete Idiot's Guide to the Revolutionary War_ for anything interesting_, tells me I need to stop working so much, I need to find the perfect man – it's not my fault that chivalry's dead and gone with the Revolution. Those days are gone and there's no going near them_.

I was quite certain, as I stood and put my stylish suade jacket on in an effort to escape the strains of work, that my perfect man did not exist because the only way I would find him was to somehow be transported back into a time when perfect men were right under one's nose.

_As though that would happen_, I laughed quietly.

I glanced back at my book and paused as I surveyed the name of a British colonel; _William Tavington_. I studied his portrait curiously. He was very handsome, tall and lithe, with an extremely cold look on his face, causing me to comment, "Well, he _would_ be handsome, if he didn't look ready to kill someone."

"Miss Tylor? Who are you talking to?"

I looked up and cast an amused look at the janitor, "Myself. Sorry, it's a bad habit of mine. I'd better get going." He was still eyeing me warily, much to my amusement, "Trust me, I talk to myself on a daily basis." This caused him to look even more concerned and I stifled laughter as I commented, "Have a nice night."

I hurried past him, amused, and slipped through the main area of the Archives and out the front door, laptop securely under one arm. No, I would just have to keep looking for my perfect man, and I was sure he would not be located in the National Archives.

_But I think I'll look into Colonel Tavington a little more,_ I thought interestedly,_ surely he'll have an interesting story to him_. And how little I knew that I was MORE than correct.


	2. The Link to the Past and Present

Well, thanks to everyone who reviewed this story!!

Rayven Storme: Thank you for the review! Yes, sadly chivalry is dead for the most part . I'm glad you like it so far though.

Ready…aim…fire: Glad you like it so far. Well, not all of them were chauvinist pigs and yes, I don't like the wigs either. Lack of hygiene is disturbing, but I'm going with _the Patriot_ form, where everyone seems rather well-kept, lol.

Avasion: Thanks!

Btw, I don't own _the Patriot_ or any of the characters.  So sad.

Chapter One: The Link to the Past and Present

Now that I was alone in my apartment, instead of alone at work, I sat down on my couch in a pair of Spongebob pajama lounging pants and a white tank top. I took a bite of some reheated leftover pizza. I did _not_ feel like cooking.

I smiled at my precious cat, Riley, that had jumped up on the couch beside me. The gray and white, lithe tomcat with light blue eyes purred and rubbed up against me.

"I know, you're happy to see me," I said to him, stroking his fur. He curled up on my lap, his eyes closed contently.

I flipped on the television and searched thoughtlessly through several channels. All the while, my eyes strayed over to my laptop and I tried to quell the overwhelming curiosity that was growing in me about the colonel. Who was he? What did he do? Was he very important?

What was so special about him? Nothing really, not to me. I didn't have anything to do with any of the British soldiers in the Revolution – though I did happen to be related to an American patriot, Benjamin Martin. Great-great-great-great (and so on) grandfather, I think.

With a frustrated sigh, I turned off the TV, my curiosity getting the better of me. Riley dove for safety asI grabbed the laptop and immediately started searching for this colonel. I laughed at the cat, who seemed utterly disturbed, and replied loftily, "Well, you know how I get about history."

I read along when I found information; "_Colonel William James Tavington; born 1745, died 1776_ – oh, he died in the Revolution! – _was married once and had two children_ – I wonder what his wife's name was?"

I was curious and extremely sad for some reason. I couldn't quite explain the tears that welled up in my eyes as I surveyed the year of death and the fact that he had a wife and children. That had to have been horrible for them.

"Ah, here it is," I sniffed, taking a bite of my pizza, "his wife. _Em_…" I froze, my brow furrowed upward in confusion. _How can this be? _I thought immediately, _this must be a joke. _

Because written before me on the computer screen – not on Wikipedia, because, though full of information, it wasn't always reliable (good for schoolwork though, I must say) – was my name. Beneath the heading family, was the name _Emmalyna Katrina Tavington (previously Tylor)_.

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I had no idea what that meant; all logical reasoning assured me that it had to be some mistake. I mean, I was here, wasn't I? I had no relatives that had married the colonel, I would have known.

"That dumb janitor, I bet it was him!" I exclaimed to myself, "he knew I was looking up Tavington. He probably thought it was funny. Well I'll show him!" My paranoia in place, I headed out for Wikipedia. I could say he got into a fist-fight and broke Cornwallis's nose or something like that.

Suddenly, though, I heard loud shouting outside of my apartment. I swiftly changed my outfit, pulling on jeans and a light pink t-shirt as fast as lightning, and raced out into the corridor. At the end of the hall, some sort of dispute was going on.

Some of my fellow tenants were surrounding someone. I hurried up to see what was going on, Riley hot on my heels. I slipped into the crowd and – being as short as I was – stood on the tips of my toes to see what was going on.

My old neighbor fellow, Mr. Francis, leaned over towards me as my eyes –wide with shock and fear – surveyed the scene before me, "You know the Roscos?"

I did; they were the newly wed couple down the hall. They were always getting into altercations, and it always got on my nerves. Someone needed to call the police on them!

Mr. Rosco had his hand in his pocket, immediately drawing my suspicion. He was yelling insults at his wife, and she was returning the favor. Mr. Rosco had an insane look in his eyes as he yelled.

"This needs to stop."

That was my mistake. I couldn't keep my mouth shut. That one little sentence was what did it. It's what got me shot.

No one could do anything quickly enough as Mr. Rosco turned towards me and pulled a revolver out of his pocket. He pulled the trigger quickly and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach.

It didn't take long as I fell to the ground, for the pain to leave. I wasn't able to think as I shut my eyes for what I knew was the last time.

_Destiny._

That's why I was completely caught off guard when I heard voices with thick British accents surrounding me. As far as I knew, Mr. Francis, Mr. Rosco, and all of my other fellow tenants were American.

"Ooh, the Colonel's no' gonna be very happy with us, is he?"

"It ain't our fault that we found a lass in the woods, is it? An' we can't well leave 'er here, can we?"

"She's hurt, I think. Looks like blood on her, well, whatever it is she's wearin'."

"Look, I think she's comin' to."


	3. Waking Up

Sorry I haven't updated for a while

Sorry I haven't updated for a while. So busy. Please, if you read this story, please please, please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Patriot. But if I did, I would own Jason Isaacs and that'd be great! I do own Emmalyna!!

A/N:

Ready…aim…fire: Well, I decided that she would die immediately. What's the point in having her suffer when she's just going to come back to life? Pink's my favorite color.

Bloody Jack Sparrow: Glad you like it!

Rayven Storme: Glad you find it interesting! I would be freaked too! I tried to make it authentic.

Demensioner: Glad you my style of writing!

I hope everyone is still reading this!

Chapter Three: Waking Up

"_It ain't our fault that we found a lass in the woods, is it? An' we can't well leave 'er here, can we?"_

"_She's hurt, I think. Looks like blood on her, well, whatever it is she's wearin'."_

"_Look, I think she's comin' to."_

I slowly opened my eyes, unsure of what, exactly, had happened. There were several men surrounding me, dressed, oddly enough, in British regulars. The thing that hit me before that was the smell.

As I gagged for breath, I realized that these men obviously hadn't showered for some time. And they looked it.

"Miss, can you tell us anything about why you're here?" one inquired of me, obviously of a higher rank than the others and with a smooth, proper British accent.

"Um, not exactly," I answered, struggling to sit up. The man who spoke to me had some sense of propriety, as he helped me up and propped me up against the trunk of a tree.

"Hear that?" one inquired, "an American! Traitorous, I bet yeh. Look at what she's wearing!"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I inquired, looking down at my clothing with a bewildered look on my face. The better question was what were _they_ wearing!

"Well, you're on the outskirts of our camp," the one man stated, pointing to his companions and himself, "my name is Borden, Captain of the British Army."

I raised an eyebrow and accepted his offered his hand. He placed a light kiss on my hand. This was all wrong. British officers in the U.S. They were dressed for action. And they presumed that I was a traitor. Somehow I had ended up in the midst of the Revolutionary War.

Now what in the hell was I supposed to do about _that?_

"Captain Borden, it's a pleasure to meet you," I smiled, looking at the other men who were casting me suspicious looks, "gentlemen." If Captain Borden was suspicious of my loyalties, he did an excellent job hiding it.

"You as well, Miss…," Borden hesitated.

"Tylor," I answered, "Emmalyna Tylor. As I said before, I don't know how I came to be here. I can't remember much, you see… my carriage was attacked…"

"By rebels?" Borden immediately was on guard.

"No, no," I replied hastily, "I believe they were just a band of thieves. No loyalties either way."

"Come, we will report this to General Cornwallis and see what he has to say about your situation, Miss Tylor," Captain Borden gingerly helped me stand, "can you walk? It's not far?"

"I'll be fine, Captain," I answered, smiling. My mind was reeling. I was going to meet _the _General Cornwallis! The man I had been writing about just before I got… shot… I remembered… the Roscos, down the hall… I looked down at my stomach and realized that my shirt wasn't marred with blood which I had known there was when I died…

I winced. I had died. And somehow I had wound up back in the past, during the Revolution. And I was being taken into the British stronghold. Oh, what was I going to do?!

_How exactly am I supposed to assimilate myself into life in the seventeen hundreds?!_ I thought, shocked, _I don't talk, act, or look like anyone around here._

"Captain Borden, wot are we gonna do 'bout th' Colonel?" one soldier inquired uneasily.

"Colonel Tavington will hopefully understand when he hears why we're late," Borden said, bringing me out of my reverie.

_Colonel Tavington!_ I thought, shocked, _no, no, no, I can't meet him! Not when I saw that he was going to marry a woman named Emmalyna Tylor! _

I hesitated and Borden noticed my unease. So did the other soldiers.

"So yeh've heard of the colonel?" inquired the other soldier, smirking.

"That's enough, Spencer," Borden called sharply, looking down at me, "are you all right, Miss Tylor?"

"Yes, I'm all right, Captain," I replied smiling slightly, hoping to cover my anxiety, "I just, recognized the name…"

"Those stories aren't true, I hope you know," the captain replied, taking my arm and leading me towards the camp.

I frowned. What stories? I paused, thinking, _I'm not sure I want to know_.

"Well, here we are," Captain Borden led me into an encampment of massive proportions. There were thousands of tents all on the acres of an enormous southern plantation. Soldiers by the thousands were milling about, doing trivial chores and whatnot.

My eyebrows were raised to the limit. I was shocked. I had never seen anything like this before in my entire life.

"Captain Borden, Colonel Tavington's waiting for you," stated a handsome young man with clear blue eyes.

"Thank you, Captain Wilkins," Borden stated with a nod. He then looked at me, "perhaps you would like to change before meeting with the colonel."

"No time for that," stated Wilkins slightly, "he's on his way."

We all turned and I saw the same very handsome man approaching us that I had seen in _the Complete Idiot's Guide to the Revolutionary War_ approaching us at a fast pace. He looked ready to kill. He had the same lithe body, icy blue eyes, brown hair, and handsome, chiseled features.

If he didn't look murderous, he would be very handsome.

"Captain Borden," growled the colonel, his voice silky and murderous, "could you tell me _why_ you were so late?"

"Colonel Tavington," Borden hesitated, clearing his throat nervously, "we found this young woman here in the middle of the woods, all alone. She was unconscious, sir, and we didn't particularly want to leave her there, unarmed."

I looked up at the colonel and flinched at the annoyed look on his face. "Indeed?" he inquired, studying my attire, "well, that does not excuse you, Captain." He had turned back to Borden and I felt somewhat annoyed – if I was supposed to marry him, I felt as though I failed my first test in not keeping his attention.

"I want you and your men on the field, ready to do rounds for this insolence," Tavington stated tersely, turning and walking off.

Borden looked at me, checking to see if I had survived this first interview, "Let's get you to Lord Cornwallis."


	4. Interview With A General

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs in the Patriot

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs in _the Patriot_. If I did, I would own Jason Isaacs and that would be fabulous.

DeadlyElegance: Glad you like it!

Ravyven Storme: I'm glad I could get his character! Glad you like it!

BlueEyedGunSlinger: Glad you enjoy it!

Enyara: Glad you're enjoying it!

Chapter Four: Interview With A General

"_I want you and your men on the field, ready to do rounds for this insolence," Tavington stated tersely, turning and walking off._

_Borden looked at me, checking to see if I had survived this first interview, "Let's get you to Lord Cornwallis."_

I was still curious about the man we had just run into, but I had no time to inquire. Colonel William Tavington, a highly ranked officer of the British Army. He was only about thirty, if I had guessed the year correctly. He would die in the Revolution, leaving two children and … me behind. That is, _if_ I was the Emmalyna Tylor the website had been talking about.

Captain Borden and Captain Wilkins were escorting me to the general's office, and both must have noticed my silence.

"He really isn't that bad, Miss Tylor," Borden said, "he may have shaken you up a bit…"

"No, really, I was just surprised," I replied, snapping out of my thoughts, "he shouldn't have gotten so angry at you over something you couldn't control."

Borden and Wilkins both looked at me, surprised. _No wonder, _I thought to myself, _I'm the only college educated woman they've ever seen. And probably ever will_.

"Here we are," Borden stated, leading me up the steps of the large plantation, "I will escort you to his office …" He trailed off slightly, staring behind me.

I turned to see what it was that had captured his attention and started. It was Colonel Tavington, once more approaching us as full stride. He stared coldly at Borden, inquiring tightly, "What did I tell you, Captain? Did I not make it perfectly clear that you were to be at the fields for rounds?"

"Yes, Colonel, but…"

"And yet you are standing in front of me," the colonel hissed.

I felt a little indignant for poor Captain Borden, who was just doing his job, and stated, in the most appealing tone I could, "Please don't be mad at him, Colonel," his icy eyes snapped down to meet my chestnut ones, "he was just escorting me to General Cornwallis so I could discuss with him what happened to my carriage."

Tavington's lips thinned and it took all of his control to keep his temper down. _When did I get this good at reading people?_ I thought, confused.

"Yes, well, Miss…," he hesitated slightly, before Borden supplied my last name, "Tylor, it seems you are to blame for this. However, you are not a soldier in my army so I cannot punish you for this." He looked back at Borden and snapped, "Go. I will escort her myself."

Borden quickly pulled his arm from mine, gave me what I saw as an apologetic look, and strode off of the porch and towards what I assumed were 'the fields'. It was only Colonel Tavington and I left on the porch.

I turned up to the man who would be my husband and inquired, laughing uneasily, "Shall we, Colonel?"

He studied me with his intense eyes, causing me to force myself not to look away, before offering his arm to me in silence. I accepted it and he instantly took off into the home with such familiarity that I knew he traveled these halls quite a bit.

The colonel did not speak as we walked through the dimly lit yet elegantly designed rooms of the commandeered home. I didn't really know what I would say to him, so I kept silent as well.

We finally reached a set of large, mahogany doors. He pushed the heavy wood doors open with ease and inclined his head to the general.

The general was an older, heavier man, sitting behind a large cherry oak desk. He was elegantly dressed, with plenty of medals hanging from his coat. I had noticed that the colonel had an equal amount on his jacket. He looked extremely dashing in his uniform, I noted.

"Colonel Tavington, what is the meaning of this?" the general asked in a tightly clipped voice, looking at me and then back, "if she's pregnant…"

I blushed as the colonel evenly replied, "No, my lord, she is not. She is here to talk to you about an ambush that occurred on her carriage earlier this morning." He was good at keeping cool after that embarrassing moment, but I could have sworn I saw color rising on the back of his neck of embarrassment.

"Oh," the general visibly relaxed and turned to me with a warm smile, "my dear, come take a seat."

I did so with all the grace I could muster in an outfit that was so out of place, graciously thanking the general as I did so.

"Now, what does Colonel Tavington mean when he says that you were ambushed this morning?" the general seemed genuinely concerned and I felt rather at ease with the British general.

"Just as he said, my lord," I answered, "I was riding in my carriage, on my way to my uncle's plantation, when I was ambushed by thieves. They must have hit me in the head, because Captain Borden and his men found me unconscious in the wood. The thieves must have stolen all of my belongings, because I was left with nothing." _Dang, that was a good lie_, I thought, impressed with myself.

And I seemed to gain the sympathy of the general. The man behind him as well, a small, creepy looking little fellow with a powdered white wig, seemed sympathetic. I glanced at the colonel out of the corner of my eye, where he was standing by the window, a glass of brandy in his hand. He was unmoved.

"Well, we must send word to your uncle as to your whereabouts," Cornwallis grabbed a sheet of parchment.

_Crap_, I thought. "Actually, my lord," I spoke up, causing the men to look at me, "the reason I was headed to my uncle's plantation was for his funeral. And his step-wife hated my parents, so I would not be welcome there. Both of my parents are deceased, you see, but the hatred is still there. I really have no connections to return to. My brother is out fighting…"

"On which side?" inquired Colonel Tavington, lowering his glass.

"That is beside the point at the moment," Cornwallis snapped, before turning to me with sympathy in his eyes, "you say you have no where to go, then?"

"No, I don't," I replied, frowning. My frown was real. I felt bad for lying to these men, but I had no other choice. Who would believe that I was from the future?!

"Well, we will have a room set up here in my headquarters for you to stay," Cornwallis replied, smiling, "we will have the seamstress make some suitable gowns for you to wear until we decide what is best for you."

I smiled, relieved that I would have a place to stay for a while. "Thank you, General," I smiled, pleased.

"You're very welcome, Miss…," he fished for a name.

I looked directly at Colonel Tavington to see if he recognized my name at all, "Emmalyna Tylor."

He didn't make any move and his eyes did not register the name. _So he doesn't know anyone with my name then_, I thought, smiling at the general, _and how many women are going to be named Emmalyna Tylor? None. None but me_.

"Colonel Tavington, could you please escort Miss Tylor to the guest room at the end of the hall upstairs?" Cornwallis inquired, but it was more of a command than an inquiry.

The colonel nodded and turned to me, setting his glass down on the mantle. He walked up to me, his boots hitting the floor loudly with each step, and extended his hand to me.

I accepted it and he easily pulled me out of the chair. My hand was tingling at the contact from his and, by the frown forming on his face as he put my hand on his arm, he felt the same feeling.

_This is going to be interesting_, I thought, leaving the general's company.

_**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! THANKS!**_


	5. Best Seat in the House

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated! Please don't kill me. Thank you. School work, babysitting, working, the usual excuses all apply here.

Disclaimer: I do not own _the Patriot_ or any of the attractive men from it. : (

BlueEyedGunSlinger: Haha, I'm glad you like the story!

Keeper-of-the-Cheese: Glad you like it!

Rayven Storme: Thanks! Yeah, she's pretty smart, lol. Glad you like it.

DeadlyElegance: lol. Glad you like it!

Aradiaeva: Thanks, glad you like it!

Enyara; Thanks, glad you like it!

Chapter Five: Best Seat in the House

_The colonel nodded and turned to me, setting his glass down on the mantle. He walked up to me, his boots hitting the floor loudly with each step, and extended his hand to me._

_I accepted it and he easily pulled me out of the chair. My hand was tingling at the contact from his and, by the frown forming on his face as he put my hand on his arm, he felt the same feeling._

This is going to be interesting_, I thought, leaving the general's company._

In addition to leaving the general's company, I was also leaving safety, or, safety for _me_. For, being in the company of Colonel William Tavington, whom was the man I apparently married in the past –_ well,__** present**__ I suppose, _wasn't exactly safe.

If I ended up falling in love with him, I cast him a dubious glance – he was basically a block of ice, impenetrable, immovable or so it seemed, I might never get to find a way back home. It didn't help that my hand was _still_ tingling from holding his and having my hand resting on his strong, tense arm.

"Do I interest you that much or are you just in the habit of staring at people?"

The colonel's harsh, silky voice instantly popped me out of my revere and my brow knitted together in confusion as my stomach knitted together at the sound of his voice, "Pardon me?"

"I _said_," Tavington's voice was tightly clipped, as though he was just about fed up with me and, with his reputation as a 'butcher', I didn't want to anywhere near the 'fed up' line, "do I interest you that much or are you just in the habit. Of. Staring. At. People?"

My temper flared at his speech – I wasn't the five year old he seemed to be talking to. And sooner or later he would have to deal with the fact that I was an intelligent woman, not the kind of women he was used to, that had no college education whatsoever.

"No, _colonel_," I replied in a semi-annoyed tone, "I was thinking, actually, though that may sound hard to believe to you."

"Of excuses?" he looked down at me, his eyes harsh and a devilish smirk on his face, decidedly ignoring the last part of my comment.

"Whatever do you mean?" I inquired, hiding my unease – obviously he could see through my lies about where I came from a lot easier than General Cornwallis or Captain Borden could.

"You don't mean to tell me that you want me to believe you were abandoned in the middle of the forest, alone, with _nowhere_ to go?" Tavington inquired condescendingly, giving me a look that said _'hardly'_.

"If that's the truth, you should believe it," I replied frostily, "but it isn't you that decides whether or not my story is the truth or not, it's General Cornwallis, and he seems to believe me."

"You're a spy for the rebels, aren't you, you clever little wench?" Tavington growled, his arm stiff under my hand.

_This is a progressive relationship,_ I thought sarcastically, not wanting to roll my eyes for fear of him lashing out at me even more so.

"No, I am not a spy, colonel, and I'm not a wench," I replied tersely, ignoring his scoff, "now if you please, I would like to get some rest. I've had a very trying day, thank you."

The colonel continued to stare down at me, his eyes narrowed in a calculating way, as if trying to read my expression and see if I was lying to him. Technically I _was_ lying to him – of course my story was fake, but what else could I say? They would never believe that I was from the future!

Tavington just nodded shortly and stopped in front of a large, mahogany door. I noticed there were several doors around here, presumably all guest rooms, though I didn't know if they were all in use. He opened the door easily with a push of his hand and waved his arm, gesturing me into the room.

I released his arm, my hands sweating, and stepped through the threshold. I wheeled back to face him and he was already headed down the corridor.

"Colonel," I called to him, though hardly expecting him to stop.

To my surprise he did stop, but didn't turn to face me. He just stood there, expectantly, his back to me.

"I wish you would believe me," I replied shortly, though I did mean it – I didn't want to have any ill will with this man, no matter how mean and nasty he was to me, "I really have nowhere else to go."

With that I turned and slammed the door shut, hoping he understood that I was not happy with him. I took a deep calming breath and looked around what was now my home. It was shocking.

The room was vast, too large, I thought, for one lone person. There was a four-poster bed along the wall directly across from the door. A large set of windows was directly to my right on the far end of the room. The ivory curtains billowed softly about in the breeze and I noticed that this room led off onto a balcony. On my left was a large vanity, covered in women's supplies, though, from the dust covering them, I figured it had been a long time since the make-up and powder had been used. _It probably belonged to the people who owned this house before the British took it over_, I thought to myself, roaming the room. Next to the bed was a nightstand with an elegant looking candelabrum made of what looked like crystal. Beside that was a large chest of drawers and a bureau and another set of windows. The floor was wooden, a deep rich color, and there was a large blue shaggy rug on the side of the bed. The walls were wallpapered with a light ivory color, with blue designs that looked like ivy crawling up the wall.

Overall, I was very pleased with my new home. I was surprised that Cornwallis had been this generous with giving me this room. I was a stranger and yet he took me in very kindly.

I had to thank him. Even if he was leading the army that was trying to suppress the freedom – that I already knew and had – of the colonists, he had still been overly polite to me. Unlike a certain obnoxious and cocky colonel.

I turned and exited the room, wandering down the corridors that Colonel Tavington and I had traveled just minutes before. Somehow, amazingly, I found my down from the enormous second story and back to Cornwallis's headquarters.

I knocked hesitantly and when I heard his short, "Come in," I hurriedly entered. I was obviously not who he expected to see, for his stern scowl turned into a polite smile.

"Miss Tylor," he smiled, gesturing to a chair, "please sit."

"No thank you, my lord," I replied, hoping I had used the correct title, "I just wanted to come and thank you for the amazing room. It really is lovely."

"Which room is that?" Cornwallis inquired, confused.

His confusion rubbed off on me and I replied hesitantly, "The one with the balcony, overlooking the soldiers. It really is a nice room."

"_That's_ the room Tavington chose for you?" Cornwallis inquired, surprised.

"Is that a prob… Colonel Tavington _chose_ it for me?" my inquiry changed as the realization that Colonel Tavington himself had chosen that lovely room for me, not Cornwallis.

"Yes," Cornwallis replied offhandedly, "I had a feeling that Tavington was going to give you one of the smaller rooms, a maid's room or something of the sort, and was waiting for him to scold him for it. But it appears he chose the nicest room in the whole bloody building for you." He was very surprised indeed.

Not as surprised as I was, though. As I thanked Cornwallis and headed up to my room, I couldn't believe that the man I had just been arguing with, that seemed to hate my very existence, that accused me of being a rebel spy and a wench, who basically told me how suspicious he was of my being in the fort, gave me the nicest room _in_ the fort.

I entered my room without really noticing it and walked up to the window, walking out onto the balcony. If there weren't large white tents as far as the eye could see or the smell of dirty people floating up to my nose, it would be an amazing view. I studied the scenes below me as one watches a movie, as a bystander. Soldiers were talking and laughing with each other, eating, training, cleaning their weapons, the basics of life in an army camp.

I don't know how or why I picked Colonel William Tavington out of the crowd – all of them were wearing their red military jackets, him included – but I did. He was standing at the far end of the camp – again, I don't know how I picked him out, though I had a feeling it had to do with how he walked and carried himself – with a group of soldiers lined up obediently before him. He was barking orders, that I could tell also, by the way his body moved as he spoke with impatience.

I could have sworn he glanced up at my window, but I wasn't sure. I staggered backwards to the bed and laid back on it, sighing. This was _definitely_ going to be interesting.

COLONELTAVINGTONCOLONELTAVINGTON

_**Another chapter done. How'd you like it? Please read and review. Thank you! Oh, and I would like to know if any of my readers are interested in a BatmanBegins/DarkKnight fic, because I'm planning one now. Let me know. Thanks!**_


	6. Of Slaves and Hedge Mazes

BlueEyedGunSlinger: Glad you like it! And I have my Dark Knight story up now : )

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Tahlia Malfoy: Glad you like it! It's actually my first time travel story! Glad you like Tavington's character and Emmalyna's!

Disclaimer: I do not own _the Patriot_!! I wish I did, because then I'd own Jason Isaacs, Heath Ledger, and Mel Gibson!! : ( Nor do I own the song _A Bird Without Wings_ by Damian McGinty of Celtic Thunder. I TOTALLY WISH I OWNED KEITH, RYAN, AND PAUL FROM CELTIC THUNDER, THOUGH! DANG!! THOSE MEN ARE HOOOOTTTTT!!

Chapter Six: Of Slaves and Hedge Mazes

_I don't know how or why I picked Colonel William Tavington out of the crowd – all of them were wearing their red military jackets, him included – but I did. He was standing at the far end of the camp – again, I don't know how I picked him out, though I had a feeling it had to do with how he walked and carried himself – with a group of soldiers lined up obediently before him. He was barking orders, that I could tell also, by the way his body moved as he spoke with impatience._

_I could have sworn he glanced up at my window, but I wasn't sure. I staggered backwards to the bed and laid back on it, sighing. This was __definitely__ going to be interesting._

I awoke the next morning in a state of panic. I looked around the room uncomprehendingly for a moment, before I fell back against my pillow. I sighed in defeat, realizing that I had indeed been shot and killed, and somehow transported back to one of the most interesting subjects in American history.

I also remembered Colonel William Tavington, the man that I was presumably to marry. I wondered how that would come to be, seeing as he was supposed to die during the Revolution. I wondered what year it happened to be, since I was supposed to have two children with the cold, seemingly unfeeling man.

_Now, I can't say he's totally unfeeling_, I reminded myself, though I was hard-pressed to believe it, _he did give me _this _room. _

I climbed out of bed and wandered over to the window. I moved out onto the balcony, wrapping my arms around myself to fight off the cold. I watched as the soldiers just began to wake up. They sat around fires, their uniforms in disarray from sleep. Some poked wearily at the fire, some strolled about the campsite.

I picked Captain Borden and Captain Wilkins out of the crowd as they stood near the stables, talking to each other. I wondered idly where Colonel Tavington was, before catching myself – if I was going to find a way back home (which I highly doubted since I would technically be _dead_ when I returned) I couldn't get attached to this man.

There was a knock on my door and I half expected it to be him. I called out nervously, "Come in!" I walked into the room as the door opened.

An elderly black woman entered the room, a gown in her hands. "Ma'am," she bowed slightly, avoiding my eyes.

_Oh this won't do_, I thought to myself, frowning and panicking, _no, no, no slaves. _I would never be able to handle the idea that there was slavery in this time period yet I would have to deal with it.

"Hello," I smiled pleasantly, "what's your name?"

She looked at me, surprised. She had to be in her upper fifties, content with life as it was (or acted as though she was, though the word _resigned_ came to my mind before _content_ did). "Miss?" she inquired, as though she couldn't believe I had actually addressed her.

"I wanted to know what your name was," I replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, "if we're going to be friends then I need to know your name." There was no way this woman would be a servant to me.

"Miss, you needn't concern yourself with that," she replied, waving it off, carrying several packages up to me, "here, General Cornwallis wan'ed you to have these. There's a tub in th' next room, with some hot water I brung up earlier for you."

I thanked the older woman and accepted the packages. She waved it off and moved to the door.

"My name's Emmalyna," I stated. She prepared to leave, before saying, "Lucy, miss. My name's Lucy."

She then left.

_Right, I must tell Cornwallis that I can't be served by a slave,_ I thought, moving to the bathroom and reveling in the sight of the bathtub, although it looked much worse for the wear. I didn't want to look at myself in the mirror so I instead headed straight for the bathtub.

COLONELTAVINGTONCOLONELTAVINGTON

Colonel William Tavington paced in front of Cornwallis, his body tense and annoyance exuding his form.

"Colonel, I really wish you would stop trying to incorporate Miss Tylor in your little _Ghost plot_," Cornwallis stated, annoyed, "why can't you believe that she simply _was _attacked by thieves and robbed?"

"I simply refuse to accept such a ludicrous, far-fetched story!" Tavington replied, seething, stopping and rounding on his superior, "she simply does not seem to be telling the truth! And I will get the truth out of her if it is the last thing I do." He took a sip of brandy, despite the fact that it was far too early to be drinking.

COLONELTAVINGTONCOLONELTAVINGTON

I stopped outside of Cornwallis's door. Eavesdropping – something I hated doing, though necessary at the moment.

I had known Colonel Tavington didn't trust me. I wondered furtively if he would try and seduce the information out of me; maybe that's how we got married in the first place.

_No,_ I scoffed, _knowing me, I would never let that be the case. When… _if_… I marry this man, I will marry him for love. I will not let him trick me._

I knocked on the door, waiting for Cornwallis to allow me in.

"Come in," he called. I opened the door and peeked inside. I smiled slightly, hoping that I would look presentable enough. I realized that women of this time period probably didn't run around with wet hair (in fact, I wondered how often they had an opportunity to wash their hair – properly that is), but I figured since I didn't have a hair-dryer and I simply didn't want to sit around to let it dry, it would have to do.

"Ah, Miss Tylor," Cornwallis smiled, waving me in.

I curtsied slightly with a smile and turned to Tavington. He was surveying my choice of attire – to which I blushed deeply – and took a swig of his brandy.

"Colonel Tavington," I curtsied slightly.

He stood tall and bowed properly, "Miss Tylor."

Of course the man looked impeccable, as usual. He was in his uniform, not a button out of place. His hair was pulled back neatly, his icy eyes focusing on my chestnut ones. He was still on edge – probably from his mistrust of me, but he looked a little less frazzled, causing me to realize he looked more handsome when he wasn't looking so fierce.

"You look very nice, my dear," Cornwallis smiled.

"Thank you," I smiled, fighting back the thought of whether or not the colonel thought that as well, "I must thank you for giving me this, as well. It fits perfectly! Wherever did you get it?"

It was a pale blue gown, obviously a gown for everyday wear but still very nice; obviously for someone wealthy. It was modestly cut, exposing nothing more than a hint of cleavage, and short-sleeved. A thin, white ribbon tied around the waist of the gown and I saved the matching ribbon to put in my hair for when it finally dried. I had a pair of heeled pumps to match and a light dose of make-up, as I never liked to put _too_ much on.

"It was around the house," Cornwallis replied flippantly, "are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am," I admitted, "but perhaps I could ask you a favor?"

"What is it?" Cornwallis inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Could I explore the grounds?" I pleaded, "I have never been one to be able to sit around and do nothing. The countryside seems so lovely – and I would very much like to explore."

Cornwallis smiled slightly, in a very fatherly manner, "It would be very dangerous for a lovely young woman such as yourself to be wandering around the campsite. Some of these men haven't seen women for a few months."

I blushed at the notion. I sighed and slumped slightly, "Perhaps you're right." I turned to leave, before recalling, "Oh, General Cornwallis – one more thing."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, inquiringly. I could feel the colonel's icy blue eyes on me as well – in fact, I had felt them on me from the moment I had entered the room.

"Lucy, the … slave," I replied, turning and facing the men fully, "I simply refuse to be served by her. Or any slave, for that matter," I interrupted Cornwallis as he began to tell me that he could retrieve another slave, "I never had a slave and I would not like to have one now. I think it's barbaric!" I paused, composing myself, before curtsying once more to the men in the room and exiting.

COLONELTAVINGTONCOLONELTAVINGTON

I had found my way to the kitchens, where more slaves were cooking up the morning meal for the higher ranked soldiers in the fort. I hurriedly retrieved some fresh fruit and ran to find a secluded spot in the house.

I found a lovely garden area and smiled to myself. I headed out into it, munching happily on a few grapes, and surveyed the patches of colorful flowers. I began humming the song _A Bird Without Wings_, by Damian from one of my favorite groups, Celtic Thunder. I set off through a maze of hedges, of course, I hadn't known that at the time.

I finally admitted to myself that I was lost, lost in the hedge maze, at the British fort, in Colonial America, mind you.

"Like a song without words," I sang slightly under my breath, "like a world without music, I wouldn't know what to do, I'd be lost without you…"

"Miss Tylor?"

I spun around, thinking the last line of the song to myself, _…watching over me_. I frowned as none other than Colonel Tavington approached me.

I knew nothing of this man, save for what I had read on line and in _the Complete Idiot's Guide to the Revolutionary War_. His attitude was pretty clear, but I had no idea what his intent was. Sneaking up on me in an isolated hedge maze gave me my doubts about him.

"Colonel," I hesitated, my heart racing as he approached me, his hands clasped behind his back, his stance exuding poise and self-assurance, "what are you doing here?"

"A better question would be what are _you_ doing here," he smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow, "at this fort. However, you have made your answer and, whether _I_ believe you or not makes no difference, as you said yesterday."

I sighed slightly, and, as I prepared to retort, I remembered my room. I swallowed the retort and said quietly, "Thank you for the room, Colonel Tavington."

He seemed startled that I knew about his part in the room choice, but collected himself rather nicely. He inclined his head slightly.

We stood together in awkward silence – both of us standing stock-still and trying to find a way out of the conversation. He didn't want to make conversation, I knew, because he believed me to be a rebel spy. I didn't want to make conversation because it would ultimately lead me down the aisle, him by my side.

"Colonel Tavington!" we heard Wilkins call.

Tavington sighed – whether out of relief at being rid of me or having to deal with something he would obviously find offensive, I didn't know. I looked over at him, seeing the way his mouth set in a thin, annoyed line and his face hardened, realizing it was obviously the latter.

He made no acknowledgement to me but stormed out of the maze, off to answer his underling's call.

I stared after his imposing form for a minute or two.

"Miss Tylor, are you all right?"

I turned and smiled slightly at Captain Borden, "Yes, I am, Captain. Now, could you _please_ tell me how to get out of here?"

COLONELTAVINGTONCOLONELTAVINGTON

_**Thanks for reading! Please read and review!! Thanks!! :D**_


	7. A Stroll

Keeper-of-the-Cheese: Haha, that's all right about the lack of reviews. Yes, she still doesn't want to travel that aisle… he'll work on it though!!

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Disclaimer: I do not own _The Patriot. _SHOOOTTT!!!

Chapter Seven: A Stroll

A whole week had passed and I did nothing of particular interest. Colonel Tavington led a party of his Dragoons out for few days, so all I had to accompany me was General Cornwallis and O'Hara.

_And they're not much fun - certainly not O'Hara_, I thought, annoyed. I strolled around the library, searching for something good to read. The family that previously lived here certainly had very good taste.

I picked out _Much Ado About Nothing_, by William Shakespeare and continued on my journey. I heard the door open and the thud of boots enter the room and abruptly stop.

Colonel Tavington and Bordon still on their mission, I assumed it was one of the few who actually took the time to acknowledge me.

"For the last time, O'Hara, no, I _do not_ want to accompany you on a stroll through the fort, campsite, woods, and/or stables," I stated, annoyed, refusing to look at the creepy little guy who followed Cornwallis - and now me - like a little puppy, "honestly, one would think after the twelfth time I said no, you'd learn to leave me be."

There was no response, so I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. I spotted _Hamlet_ on a higher shelf and stood on the tips of my toes, reaching for it.

_Crap_, I thought, my fingers brushing the bottom of the book's spine, _well, O'Hara can't help me, either. He's not that much taller than I am_.

Suddenly, the man approached me and grabbed the book. I turned to thank him and take it - finally O'Hara had done something right - and raised my eyebrows in surprise as I saw Colonel Tavington beside me, flipping through the book.

"Oh, Colonel, hello," I stuttered, flushing, "I thought you were O'Hara. He hasn't left me alone, you see."

Tavington smirked slightly, his icy eyes meeting my warm ones, and replied, "I would have assumed you would be glad to have his help - he being a high-ranking British official."

_Oh boy, _I resisted the urge to roll my eyes once more, _here comes more 'you're a spy, aren't you?' theories._

"No, he's a creepy little weasel," I answered calmly, looking at the book still in his hands, "may I please have my book, Colonel?"

"A weasel?" Tavington looked amused, ignoring my request for the book. I did roll my eyes this time and headed over to a large armchair near the window. I sat down and opened _Much Ado About Nothing_.

_**Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a messenger. LEONATO: I learned in this letter that Don Pedro of Aragon comes this night to Messina. MESSENGER: He is very…**_

"Why do you call him that?" Colonel Tavington followed me, smirking, "you do not appreciate his advances?"

"Well, he's asked me to go to the fort, campsite, woods… what else did I say?" I inquired, looking up from my book. Seriously, O'Hara asked me to go for a walk with him to every imaginable location in the area.

"The stables, I believe," Tavington smirked.

"Oh yes," I thought back to that occasion, laughing, "I got a bit rude on that one I think. Maybe that's why he hasn't asked me to…"

"Ah, there you are Miss Tylor." I threw my head back on the chair and bit back an over-exaggerated groan. Tavington chuckled, his eyes moving over to the doorway, stating evenly, "O'Hara."

"Ah, Colonel Tavington," O'Hara frowned, looking from him to me, "Miss Tylor, I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me down to the fields - there's a race going on, I thought perhaps you might like to watch the horses with me."

_Oh jeez,_ I thought, irked, _just when I thought there were no more things he could invite me to…_

"Actually, I just asked Miss Tylor if she would like to join me on a walk to the stables and she's agreed," Colonel Tavington replied for me, startling me out of my O'Hara-loathing.

O'Hara looked shocked, and I hoped I didn't. Was the colonel _rescuing _me from a hideous date with O'Hara?!

_Thank God!_ I thought, relieved.

"Didn't you, Miss Tylor?" Tavington inquired, skillfully raising one inquiring eyebrow. Funny, he and I could both do that…

"That's right, Colonel," I replied, smiling slightly. I looked over at a dejected O'Hara, smiling apologetically, "I'm sorry; if you would have gotten here earlier, I may have said yes."

He looked up hopefully as the colonel offered me his hand. I accepted it, still not getting used to the tingling feeling I received when I touched his hand. He pulled me out of the chair, taking my book from me and setting them both on the table. He offered me his arm and I accepted it.

We passed O'Hara, he smirking and me smiling. We exited the room and when we were far enough away, I laughed. I turned to the colonel, removing my arm from his and stating, "Thank you. But now I have nothing to read."

"You don't want to go for a walk, then?" Tavington inquired, his face unreadable.

I blushed slightly, embarrassed. "Oh, well, er… I thought that you were just helping me get away from O'Hara. I didn't know you actually wanted to go for a walk." I was rambling now, "But, yes, I would love to."

Tavington smirked, offering me his arm again, "Good. Get your bonnet and we'll be off."

"Bonnet?" I wanted to scoff, and say _pssh no way Jos__é_just to see how he would react, but settled for a firm, yet amused, "I don't need one."

"Of course you do," Tavington scoffed, leading me to the stairs.

"No, really, I don't," I answered, firmer, "I've gone all my life in the sun without a bonnet and I assure you, I don't need one now."

"Go get it," he hissed, looming over me, trying to intimidate me.

"No," I hissed back, my eyes narrowing in anger. Wow, I had thought we were actually getting along for a moment, but nope, he had to go ruin it. Thanks, colonel, thanks a million.

He tensed up and for a moment, I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he turned and strode towards the door, leaving.

I frowned, scowling, but raced after him. I ran past him, spinning, "Oh my, the heat! Whatever will I do without my bonnet?!" Okay, totally childish, but worth the look of irritation on his face. "Oh my! I feel faint!" I continued gasping, running towards the stable, "help me!"

Several officers looked as though they were about to come to my aid, but one scowl from Tavington sent them back to work. He strode forcefully up to me, never running, and grabbed my upper arm in a vice-grip, leading me to the stables.

"Let go," I growled.

"No," he hissed mockingly, leading me to the horses.

Finally, we reached it and he let me go forcefully. I frowned, before straightening my attire and walking proudly over to one of the colts. He was lean and a dark gray color. He had a few black splotches on him and deep brown eyes. I ignored my fury towards the colonel and knelt down so I was eye level.

"Aww," I cooed, "you've got to be a few weeks old, huh?" I stuck my fingers out towards him to sniff. He did so, pushing his head into my hand. I laughed and, ignoring Tavington still as he angrily stalked about the stables, tossing items he didn't need around loudly, climbed over the gate.

I knelt down beside the colt, grabbing a brush, and began stroking his coat. He snorted appreciatively and I giggled, "What a good boy."

"What are you doing in there?"

I looked up, still brushing the horse, and smiled brightly at the colonel, "Brushing a horse. Can't you tell?"

He sneered, "I know that. _Why_ are you doing it?"

"He's cute," I replied, patting the colt's head, "aren't you?" He snorted again and I laughed.

"Get out of there," Tavington hissed, "what would Cornwallis think if he saw you in the dirt, playing with a horse?"

"I don't know," I answered, "I don't think he would mind." I noted the steely glint in the colonel's eyes and decided not to test him anymore. I patted the colt's head again and put the brush away. I walked back to the gate and started to climb it.

This apparently bothered the colonel, because instead of letting my finish my climb, he reached over and picked me up, lifting me out of the pen. He set me to my feet and I fought the urge to stumble, on fire from his touch.

_Is this natural?_ I thought, shaking my head slightly, deciding, no it wasn't. I looked at the colonel, who was massaging his arms where he held me.

Dang - he felt it too! What was going on?

I turned away from him, continuing my exploration of the stables. It was actually pretty neat. There were dozens of horses in there. I wondered absently which one the colonel's was.

I approached a brown stallion and offered him my hand. He sniffed it and I began to stroke his coat.

"Aw, you're nice, too," I stated, petting him. I glanced back at Tavington, who had an eyebrow raised and a frown on his face.

"Yes, Colonel?" I inquired.

He walked up to me, never glancing at me, and began to pet the horse. "This one's mine," he stated, perplexed, "and he never let's anyone touch him."

I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the horse. Hmm, Tavington's horse hated people, but he let me pet him. Huh. Did the horse know I was supposed to marry his master? Doubtful.

I looked back at the colonel. He was staring at me with that same unreadable look on his face. I bit my lip.

_**Please review! Thank you so much! Oh, I've got a bunch of new stories by the way. Two Harry Potter ones, two Twilight ones, a Dark Knight one… check them all out if you're interested in them! :D**_


	8. Not Quite

Disclaimer: I do not own _the Patriot!_ I really really wish I did though!!! :/

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Chapter Eight: Not Quite

_I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the horse. Hmm, Tavington's horse hated people, but he let me pet him. Huh. Did the horse know I was supposed to marry his master? Doubtful. _

_I looked back at the colonel. He was staring at me with that same unreadable expression on his face. I bit my lip. _

"What's his name?" I inquired, stroking the horse's muzzle. He seemed to appreciate it, because he leaned his massive head into my hand.

"Demon," Tavington hissed, his eyes narrowed.

"Jeez, no need to be rude, colonel," I stated, a slight smirk on my face, "I didn't think I was that bad…"

"I was referring to the horse," Tavington snarled, obviously offended that he thought I thought he called _me _a demon.

"And I was joking, colonel," I replied with a slight laugh, "you needn't be so stuffy all the time. Even if it suits you."

His eyes narrowed again and he turned, stalking out of the stables. I laughed slightly to myself. Oh, it was so much fun teasing the colonel. It probably wasn't the best idea I had ever had, but it was still fun.

I patted Demon's nose and said, "What an interesting master you have, Demon." He snorted, as if to say, _don't I know it!_

I turned and exited the stables as well, content at being out of the stuffy stalls and the fort for once. Of course, I was supposed to be under supervision, even if Cornwallis didn't admit it directly to my face (eavesdropping was always so useful), but I figured it wouldn't hurt for me to be wandering the grounds.

I didn't see Colonel Tavington anywhere, which suited me just fine. I didn't like the way my senses were set on fire anytime he touched me, even if it was in the most innocent way. He felt it, too, I know he did. We just wouldn't admit it to ourselves, especially not to each other. That would mean there was some sort of connection between he and I.

Some soldiers watched me pass with lecherous looks on their faces, but their buddies would instantly nudge them and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like 'Tavington'. They would instantly look away from me, terrified.

So obviously, they were terrified that if they touched me, Tavington would hurt them. Wherever did they get that idea?

One of these men decided to push his luck. He strolled up to me, a slight smile on his face. He wasn't bad looking; nowhere near as attractive as the colonel, but he had a mop of wild blond hair and bright blue eyes and features that made him very cute. He seemed to be younger than me, but that didn't stop him.

"Afternoon, miss," he said politely, a charming grin on his face.

"Good afternoon to you, too," I replied, smiling slightly. _I wonder if Colonel Tavington would _really _do something if one of these men tried to approach me_, I thought to myself, _let's test that theory, shall we? Wait, who's we?_

"What's a lovely young lady such as yerself doin' wand'rin' this camp by yerself?" he inquired.

I tilted my head upwards to look him in the face and smiled politely, "I felt like a stroll. The colonel and I were in the stables but he left rather suddenly."

The boy's eyes widened fractionally and his grin faltered only slightly, but he plowed on, "Well, tha's not right, is it? Maybe you wan' to accompany me back te the fort?"

"I wasn't quite finished with my walk, thank you," I answered. I had no intention of doing anything of the sort with this boy, but the reaction he had to the colonel's name was quite amusing.

Suddenly, said colonel came striding toward us. He was behind this young boy, but I saw clearly the fury and irritation written on his face.

"I could come wit' yeh, miss," the boy smiled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"That's very sweet of you," I answered, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the look of rage on Colonel Tavington's face as he got closer, "but…"

"It will be unnecessary," Tavington stated, stopping directly behind us. The boy spun around and jumped at the sight of his irate commander.

"T-terribly sorry, colonel," he stated, saluting him, "I'll just get back to work, shall I?"

"I've got a new job for you," Tavington hissed, contempt written all over his face, "clean out the stables, top to bottom."

The boy looked like he was about to protest, but one nasty glare from the colonel later and he was scampering towards the stables. The area around us had gone quiet and Tavington looked around, annoyed, barking, "Get back to work." He straightened his jacket and looked at me, an eyebrow raised in annoyance.

I raised an eyebrow myself in defiance, waiting for him to speak.

"What was that about, dare I ask, Miss Tylor?" he hissed, his voice deadly and controlled. He offered me his arm stiffly, which I accepted. He began to drag me through the campsite, never stopping once.

"What was _what_ about, dare _I _ask, Colonel Tavington?" I replied shortly, "that boy was just trying to have a friendly conversation…"

"He wanted to take you to his tent, Miss Tylor," Tavington growled, annoyed, "and if you would have gone with him, who knows what could have happened…"

"Are you concerned for me, colonel?" I inquired, slightly surprised. I knew he was annoyed that his soldier wasn't doing his job, but could it be possible that he was concerned and… jealous?

"I do not want you distracting my soldiers, is all, I assure you, Miss Tylor," he replied, casting me a furtive glance, "but Cornwallis would have my head if you were harmed. As would O'Hara." He was smirking now, knowing that he had annoyed me.

"Oh yes, because I give a damn about what O'Hara thinks, of course," I replied, rolling my eyes, "and Cornwallis has been nothing but nice to me. It _would_ be a shame if something happened to this beautiful dress he's given me, don't you agree?"

Tavington seemed surprised that I swore, yet couldn't help but smirk at my comment, replying, "Yes, he would highly upset if you ruined that dress."

"So we've agreed, if something's going to happen to me, I'd better change into something simpler," I stated. We were now strolling at a leisurely pace, not striding like we had a planned destination.

"_Nothing_ is going to happen to you, Miss Tylor," he hissed suddenly, stopping and tensing. He turned me to face him and inquired, "Do you hear me?" His icy eyes were blazing with something that superseded anger.

My heart was thumping wildly and all I could do was nod. What I had said had all been in jest, but it certainly seemed like Tavington _was_ concerned about what happened to me. I looked around quickly. We were in a more secluded part of the woods, just the two of us.

I looked back at Tavington and he seemed to notice this, too. His hands were still burning holes into my upper arms but the only thing I could focus on were his gorgeous stormy eyes.

_Emma calm down!_ I thought to myself desperately, _don't give in! You'll be stuck in this time period if you do! You'll never get home!_

The colonel, his startling eyes focused on my mouth, was clenching his jaw over and over, as if debating with himself over something. I figured that something was me.

"You do understand, don't you?" he inquired silkily, his face mere inches from mine.

"I do," I replied quietly, even though no one was around to hear us. His lips kept getting closer and closer to mine and my breathing quickened automatically.

"Good," he replied, "insufferable girl." He was about to press his lips to mine - in fact, his brushed against mine for a split second - when Bordon's voice echoed throughout the clearing we were in. He shot back, away from me, and straightened his jacket, releasing his death grip on me.

My lips were on fire from the split second his were on mine and I couldn't seem to calm my breathing down.

"Here, Bordon," Tavington called, his eyes never leaving mine, the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk.

Bordon walked into sight, saluting Tavington. I'm sure I had a blown-away look on my face, because Bordon gave me a perplexed look.

"What is it, Bordon?" Tavington inquired, his voice tense and short.

"General Cornwallis wants to see you about the Ghost," Bordon replied, "would you like me to escort Miss Tylor back to the fort?"

"I'll take her," Tavington replied stiffly, "thank you, Bordon."

Bordon took that as his cue to leave, because he saluted Tavington again and left the area. Tavington didn't say a word to me, but offered me his arm.

Dazedly, I accepted it and he led me back to the fort. He still had that stupid smirk on his face. I had to admit it, it was growing on me.

_**Please read and review!! Thanks!! =D**_


	9. News

Hey everyone! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while! I've been super busy with work and writing my own novels. Speaking of, I need to do a little self-promotion! I have written and published an ebook on Kindle called Running. It's a paranormal romance set in Gettysburg, PA. The main character is a medium on the run from killers who she helped put behind bars. If you like my style and want to help support a fledgling author, please check out Amazon and search for the author Cara McKay and the title "Running". It will soon be available for Nooks and other e-readers. Please check it out and let me know how you like it! I'll put the URL on my homepage for those who want it =D

And hopefully I can update this soon!

Thanks a bunch!

~Lift the Wings


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